


A Little Less Conversation

by fairie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 08:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairie/pseuds/fairie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Great Gatsby AU</p><p>(Prompt: I want to see Crowstiel (what I can whore out my own ship right?) set in the world of The Great Gatsby (and I personally want to write a fic in which it's The Great Gatsby but Crowley is Gatsby, Cas is Daisy, and so on and so forth because holy shit I'm seeing it all fall into place in my head I must do this). Specifically, I want to read Cas and Crowley attending one of Gatsby's parties (I think Cas would be dragged there by Dean or something) and they manage to meet and hit it off amongst all the decadence somehow. They may have sex if you please, but if you don't want to write smut that's fine because smut is an art and not everyone has the talent, I know I don't. Any characters from The Great Gatsby itself may make an appearance if you'd like as long as it makes sense for them to be at the party. You can also include any other SPN characters as well, though I did suggest Dean.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Less Conversation

The days were hot but the nights were even hotter. And the entirety of New York City knew that the place to be was Gatsby’s. It didn’t matter if you were rich or poor, but as long as you were wearing a half decent suit, you could get in.

Castiel Novak didn’t know why he’d let Dean drag him to this place, because it was definitely not his scene. Him and Sam Winchester had both finished their first year of university, and through going over to his house for a study session, he’d met Dean. The eldest Winchester apprenticed under his father at a mechanics shop, which was how they were paying for Sam’s university. Castiel’s deadbeat dad had left some money for him before he’d run off when he was a baby. Castiel only had a suit because of funeral he’d gone to long ago, and the Winchesters only had a pair because one tailor Dean had repaired a car for had thrown in some suits as a bonus for a rush job. Suffice to say, Castiel would rather be at home curled up with a book.

“It looks surreal.” Jessica, Sam’s date, said in awe when they pulled up into the driveway. The entire house was alit and the vibrations given off by the booming music made it feel like Castiel’s body was shaking. 

Their modest car came to an abrupt halt and Dean practically dragged him out of the car, “Come on!” The four of them made their way through the crowd to the main ballroom, and Dean somehow managed to shove a drink in his hand as soon they got there. “You know I don’t drink much,” he murmured, eyeing the martini with disapproval. “Come on Cas, let loose a little. This will be fun.” He was literally rubbing elbows with people he didn’t know and he’d never seen so many women in short dresses. 

“Me and Jessica are going to head to dance floor, see you two later,” Sam smiled, and took her by the hand and escorted her to the center of the room. By the time they passed the first couple of women in shimmering silver dresses Castiel had already lost sight of them in the glitzy atmosphere. Everything seemed to shine with the intent to distract him and he felt a bit of sensation overload. He wasn’t the only that was distracted: Dean had set his sights on the girls to the left of them, whose short black dresses left little to the imagination, just like Dean liked it. 

“Which one do you want?” Dean grinned as he glanced over to his friend. “Uh, surprise me. I’m… going to go get some food,” he stammered out and quickly fled. As he passed through the crowd, all he heard was gossip, and no one had the decency to whisper about it. Some names were unknown to him and others were people who graced the pages of the newspaper almost daily. And of course, everyone was talking about Gatsby. 

He went to reach for a hors d’oeuvre off a waiter’s plate when he heard a silky voice behind him, “You look a little lost.” Castiel retracted his hand, and turned around to see who was addressing him: it was a man in a dark red suit with a silk blue tie. Warily, he replied, “No, I know where I am.” 

The man chuckled, “I mean, you’re not the wild type.” Castiel tried not to frown, but he supposed it seemed obvious that he wasn’t terribly enjoying himself. 

“I’m Crowley, by the way,” he said and extended a hand, which Castiel shook, and smiled a bit.

“How about I take you somewhere that’s a little more your style?” Crowley asked, watching him carefully. Castiel hesitated a moment before nodding, and Crowley downed the remainder of his drink before he put it on a butler’s tray and began to tug him through the crowd. Crowley led him through a hallway that no one seemed to be loitering in, until he opened a door, which revealed a vast library. Castiel shuffled in with wonder, and Crowley closed the door behind him. “There’s quite a few first editions here. Thought I doubt Mr. Gatsby has read most of them.” 

“Why would he buy them, then?” Castiel asked, furrowing a brow as he approached a bookcase. He reached out his hand, wanting to touch the spines, but dared not. It would be rude to do so.

“Why would he hold all these parties? To impress people.” Crowley grinned, taking a step towards the man, though he hardly paid any attention to the books. 

“But no one comes here,” Castiel remarked, and found the logic to be a bit lacking. In the time that he’d been thinking about the matter Crowley had closed in on him more. “You’re here.” The accent has such close proximity sent shivers up his spine and he found himself backing into the bookcase. 

“So are you,” Castiel swallowed, and he felt the need to just say anything as opposed to being nervous and silent, but he felt embarrassed to have said something nonsensical. 

“I’m sure Mr. Gatsby wouldn’t mind if you borrowed a book,” Crowley said, leaning forward with his lips hovering some inches away from Castiel’s.

“Oh?” Castiel stammered, a magnetic force making him lean in ever so slightly but he was too shy to make contact. If he lost himself in that voice for even another second… 

Then, there was an abrupt knock on the door, “Cas? You in there?” 

Castiel bolted upright, and Crowley stepped backwards as the other man made a nervous beeline for the door. He didn’t even cast a glance backwards, “I’m here!” He squeaked as soon as the door opened, with Dean there with two martini glasses in his hand. “Where have you been? I asked around and some people said they saw you coming here. One even swore that you were with Mr. Gatsby,” he scoffed in disbelief. 

His throat felt dry, “Mr…?” Castiel turned around, but the room was empty. He blinked, and then looked back to Dean, taking a glass from him. 

“Yeah, I told them that they’d had too much to drink.” Dean glanced around, “I see you clearly haven’t been having any fun,” he teased.

A faint blush spread on his cheeks but he quickly hid it by taking a sip of his drink, “Nowhere I would rather be.” 

As Dean lead him back to the bustling ballroom, Castiel reflected that the sharp dressed devil he met might just be a good enough reason to let his friend drag him to another party.


End file.
